


Mistakes

by TheSleeplessWriter



Series: Johnlock [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drowning, Established Johnlock, Fanfiction, Guilt, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mistakes, Punishment, Short Story, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:09:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9275357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSleeplessWriter/pseuds/TheSleeplessWriter
Summary: Mistakes happen. Sometimes they are very big mistakes, especially when we're talking about Sherlock. Jumping off a bridge to catch a serial killer? That might be in his top five worst mistakes.Established Johnlock.





	

"Sherlock! Don't you dare." These were the last words Sherlock heard before leaping off the bridge and into the murky water. 

"Bloody hell!" John shouts, his knuckles turning white as he grips the iron rails. The blaring sound of cars surround him, clouding his thoughts. All he knows is that his Sherlock just jumped off a bridge to catch the infamous serial killer, the Venom Lady, who murdered by allowing her spiders to sting the victim. Dark flashbacks of the fall at Bart's swing like a hypnotist's watch. 

The blackish water engulfs the two, save for a few glimpses of a hand or leg. 

Sirens scream in the background. Lestrade is here, along with practically the rest of London's police force. 

 

"Let me see him." John shoves his way through multiple medics, tripping on the slippery ground of the bank of the river. He catches a look at the murderess, sopping wet and being stuffed into the police car with not a stitch of care. 

"No." He says as he sees his Sherlock pale and blue faced on the ground. A young medic is starting CPR. John orders her to leave, she wouldn't do it right. No one else could do it but him. 

Fear is a sharp knife piercing John's stomach. Sherlock looks so...dead. His shaking fingers check for a heartbeat, faint but there. His head swims with countless noises, of people and cars and the sound of that damned river. It all turns into one giant whine, ringing loud and clear amidst the commotion. 

John tries once, twice, three times without any progress. With every failure, his stomach drops more and more. Sherlock is so pale. He looks like a porcelain figure, unmoving and silent. 

Lestrade stands next to him, wringing his hands as he watches. 

Finally, on the fourth try, Sherlock sucks in a sharp breath. He sits up and coughs, thickly and water filled. His eyes are red and he is soaked to the bone, but he is alive. Alive. Alive. That is the only word that John is thinking of. That his dear Sherlock is alive. He embraces his detective, holding him tight as he tries to burn those images of a blue faced Sherlock lying on the mud. 

"Did they catch her?" Sherlock asks through his coughs.

John abruptly lets go of Sherlock, a white hot anger slowly creeps into his head. Did they catch her? Did they fucking catch her? He nearly dies and all he cares about is the bloody murderess. 

"What the hell were you thinking? You almost died." John struggles to keep his voice down. 

"Almost being the key word. I calculated the height of the bridge and-" 

"Not now." John interrupts, wiping of sweat from his forehead. Another word from his brat and John will explode. 

"Would you please make sure he's okay? I'm going to go call a cab." John says to the medic, whose pride has been greatly wounded. Her first day on the job as an EMT and she gets shoved away by the bloke's friend. 

The ride back home is filled with nothing but silence. The more John thinks about what happened, the more angry he gets. 

The second they step into the kitchen, Sherlock breaks the painful silence. 

"I am sorry." He says, wringing water from his curly hair. 

Somehow, this makes it worse. 

"I'm sorry? That's all you have to say? You thought this case was more important than your own life!" John shouts. 

"She would have gotten away." Sherlock says, certain he is right. The Venom Lady would have gone on to poison more people. She is imprisoned now, and Sherlock is okay. What is the problem?

"You don't understand. You were blue in the face. Blue! I thought you would die. All for a case!" John continues, his voice thick with emotion. The image of Sherlock on the ground pulses in his mind. "I love you, and I'm not going to lose you over a fucking case." John's eyes brim with tears, yet he will not allow them to fall. 

Sherlock stands frozen, the only sound is that of the water dripping from his clothes. John…loves him?  
It doesn't quite register in his brilliant mind. The wheels turn, granted they move slowly, but nevertheless they move. The unshed tears in John's eyes speak to Sherlock more than his words did. John loves him, and is afraid of losing him. 

"I'm sorry." Sherlock repeats, this time meaning it. Seeing John's face is like a punch to his stomach. Guilt ensnares him, wrapping around his throat like a vine. 

"John, I'm sor-" He tries to say again. 

"Go to your room. We'll talk more later." John orders. Every time he looks at Sherlock's face, he sees him lifeless on the ground. 

Sherlock doesn't move, which John registers as disobedience. He stands and wrenches Sherlock's arm, turning his body to the side as he harshly smacks Sherlock's arse five times. "Go." 

Sherlock bites his tongue and walks away. Normally he would gripe and complain about being sent to his room like a naughty child. 

As he watches Sherlock leave, John feels a massive wave of guilt. He hit him. He hit his Sherlock. And not as fun foreplay in the bedroom. It was out of anger.

He makes himself a cup of tea, and then another. He gulps them both down, his hand trembling as he holds the teacup. He tries to read the newspaper and watch some boring soap opera, but all he can think of is that he hit his Sherlock. 

An hour later, Sherlock returns, his footsteps slow. 

"John." Sherlock says quietly 

He stands from his chair to face his Sherlock. 

"I'm sorry. I don't deserve your forgiveness. Hit me, please. Right here." Sherlock turns his lovely face, pointing to his cheekbone. 

"Or you can beat me with this." Sherlock hands John his belt, previously clutched by Sherlock's nervous hands. "It'll make us both feel better." 

John picks up the folded belt, cursing himself and his temper. It's all his fault. John swallows before speaking, placing the belt on the table. "I shouldn't have hit you. And I'm not going to make that mistake again." 

"My apology is not enough. I don't deserve to get off free." Sherlock's voice is cracked and emotional, which is quite rare for him. "I almost made you watch me die. Again. Hit me. I deserve it. I…want it."

John lifts his hand to Sherlock's face, and he flinches, expecting a harsh blow. It breaks John's heart to see that his Sherlock is afraid of his touch. Instead, John caresses his cheek with his thumb. 

"I won't do that, Love. No matter how much you try to lie to me that you want it."

When John calls him Love, Sherlock crumbles. Love was his special name, the one that John only called him when he was distraught. John leans up and kisses Sherlock, and not one of those fiery kisses that they were used to. It is a slow, sweet kiss, tinged with the violent guilt the two feel. 

John sits on the couch, motioning for Sherlock to follow. The detective lies down, his curly head placed in his blogger's lap. John knows quite well that this position makes Sherlock feel secure and calm. 

John absentmindedly plays with Sherlock's dark hair as he speaks. "We both made mistakes tonight. I think the best thing we can do is learn from them and move on." 

They sit like that for the whole night. John falls asleep first, one hand supporting his head and one in Sherlock's hand. 

"I love you too." Sherlock whispers, knowing that John didn't hear.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, the end might have been a little sappy. I love to write fluff, and this is the heaviest fic I've ever done. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! Feel free to leave comments, kudos, and constructive criticism.


End file.
